


so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose

by ElasticElla



Category: Adult Wednesday Addams (Web Series), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: College, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Allison takes a deep breath before opening the door to her dorm.





	so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose

**Author's Note:**

> title from mcr's teenagers because how could i not

Allison takes a deep breath before opening the door to her dorm. This moment feels more real, more substantial than any other. It was an easy thing to talk about leaving the house and becoming an actress, to drop the mask and grow up. Here though, hesitating before the threshold, gravity itself has multiplied. No more being one of the Umbrella kids, waiting on the next catastrophe.   
  
“Usually I would wait for one’s internal monologue to be over, but I left Philomena inside without air.”   
  
Allison spins around, “What?”   
  
She nearly jumps at how very close the girl is, at however she snuck up on her. Not since Five has someone been stealthy enough. Not since-   
  
The girl clears her throat, and Allison takes a step back. “Wednesday Addams, a pleasure. Are you the elusive roommate or perhaps a fellow student plotting the best way to commit arson?”  
  
“I- sorry?” Allison sputters, brain skipping as the pale girl unlocks their door.   
  
“This would be the best room to start with, the exact middle floor and middle room. Not to mention the kitchen below us, perfect for spreading flames.”   
  
“Uh roommate,” she says, not quite sure if the girl is joking or not. Half of the room is partly decorated, dark lace curtains over the windows, rule-breaking candles covering her desk, and an overflowing bookcase. There’s also a stop sign on the ceiling, and Allison decides in that moment not to ask. (If there’s one thing she’s learned from having so many siblings is to pick your battles.)   
  
Wednesday rips open a large garbage bag, pulling out a gorgeous pink looking cactus. “Mother named the plant before giving me her. She’s such the romantic, Philomena the Pinguicula. I would’ve gone with Butterface the butterworts- far more straight-forward.”   
  
The plant seems to sigh, and Allison brings her suitcases to the empty side.   
  
“Which brings me to my first roommate request- Philomena requires fresh protein every four hours. I know, quite the spoiled succulent. As I will be in labs for eight hours Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays- will you feed her?”   
  
And Allison fully intended to do college like a normal kid. Sure, her audition might have included a rumor or two, but this was _Carnegie Mellon_. There’s only like a dozen other drama kids, and she wasn’t leaving it up to chance. Acting is all about twisting reality and lying; she’s been good at both before she knew what they meant. But this undead looking girl that is somehow paler than both Mom- with her static skin- and Vanya- with her allergy to the sun and fun, this pale girl is _so_ not ruining her freshman year.   
  
She licks her lips, and the words are already passing before she can reconsider. “I heard a rumor that you need to live in a different dorm.”   
  
Wednesday cocks her head to the side, two thin braids dangling. “This room is the closest possible distance to all of my courses and- oh. I see. It’ll take more than that to change an Addams’ mind.”   
  
A shiver crawls down Allison’s back, uneasy. Rumoring has never failed her before. She reminds herself this is intended to be a fresh start, maybe it’s for the best she’s stuck with a girl who doesn’t have to listen. Unease washes over her, worse still because she’s supposed to be good with other people. Her and Klaus are the gay social kids that can’t drive and suck at math. Small talk is her forte, small talk is easy. She has this.   
  
“So what’s your major?”   
  
_Fuck._  
  
(It’s going to be a long four years.)  
  
.  
  
Allison never gets a concrete major out of her roommate. Wednesday is doing something that involves playing with cadavers three days a week, and carefully recording her carnivorous plant’s eating habits. Allison’s betting on a budding serial killer, with a future catchy name like Weeding Wednesday. If Wednesday isn’t introducing Philomena to human flesh, breeding a new lineage of the plants to dispose of bodies- well.   
  
It’s not like Allison’s been fantasizing about taking her down all the time. Just in a saving the world type of way; probably a side-effect of playing hero so often as a kid. She tried rumoring the girl once more when Wednesday came back from a lab early and walked in on her with a random hookup. Allison didn’t really think it’d work, the second time an almost reassuring failure. It means if Wednesday went evil, Allison would have to get physical to stop her. Would end up pinning her down, wrists over her head in one hand, another on her neck, all stereotypical and Wednesday wouldn’t even be phased.   
  
‘While erotic asphyxiation is on my list of top three ways to die, you will need to squeeze much harder to be successful. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?’  
  
And she’d slip a hand loose, sliding it between them and-  
  
Okay, so maybe she’s been having sex fantasies about her roommate. Whatever. She doesn’t even know if she’s Wednesday’s type, if Wednesday has a type.   
  
(She might make a few comments about other girls to Wednesday in a futile attempt to get some reaction that will tell her _something_. Wednesday’s irritatingly nonchalant, light answers full of I suppose’s and I see’s.)  
  
.  
  
Allison’s acting gets stronger and stronger as the year passes. She’s the freshman prodigy, and she even gets cast in a senior’s final project. It’s a small part, and she might’ve whispered a certain phrase to get it, but really- she’s a nameless waitress. It could have been anyone, but it’s her and it’s wonderful.   
  
The dorms are open for three more days, and while Allison’s done with all her finals, she’s waiting until the last day to leave. She’s in no rush to return home, to see who is and isn’t there. Mom was the only one that really supported her going off to college. Klaus was all for it until he heard how far away she was going, complaining that there are plenty of colleges in the City. Diego wanted them all to stay together, fighting crime- agreeing with Luther for once. Vanya’s taking a year, hasn’t given up on getting into Julliard yet. (She was pissed when Allison asked if she wanted help getting in, and honestly, she was just trying to be a good sister. Vanya’s always kept herself a bit away, and maybe if they were both in school close-ish together… maybe things would be different.)  
  
Wednesday is leaving today, and Allison thinks she might actually miss the odd girl. They’ve become almost friends, easy to live together without hanging out so often they want to split at the night’s end. She enters their room, a twisted sense of deja vu hitting her. Wednesday’s side is all packed up, and her side is messy, half-away. The dark curtains are gone, the room painfully bright.   
  
Wednesday sits on her bare mattress, patting the spot beside her.   
  
Allison sits, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a goodbye ritual your family does?”   
  
Her lips twitch, “Not one I’d dare perform on you.” Wednesday’s hand comes up slowly, fingertips barely brushing against her cheek. “As we are no longer roommates, I do not feel it necessary to continue our coy games.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Allison says, just as lost as she was when they first met.   
  
“You talk in your sleep.”   
  
Allison’s stomach trips over itself, and her mind races through her recent dreams, cheeks burning.   
  
“I rather think we should try, ‘sex until those prissy braids come out’.”   
  
“Of course that’s the dream you heard,” Allison says, and she didn’t think her face could get any hotter, but it does.  
  
“Unless you were speaking of another ‘pale nymph of darkness’-”  
  
She nearly laughs, breaking the moment- there's no way she said that, swallowing the amusement down. Allison leans in, kissing the words off her mouth, feels Wednesday smile against her lips.


End file.
